


Knights and Queens

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Series: Queens-&-Knights 'verse [1]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-01
Updated: 2004-05-01
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"I still have my white-haired knight. This, I shall not lose. This, I will win."</i> Companion piece to 'Queens and Knights'. Spike and Wesley differ on the subject of Illyria.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knights and Queens

“So, she just stands around like that all day, then?”

“Often, yes.”

“S’pose I can put her right by the couch. Be a bit of blue color to lighten the room. Feng Shui, y’know?”

Wesley just sighed at that. “She’s not a piece of furniture,” he pointed out, exasperated.

“Prob’ly shouldn’t trade her off to your mates, then,” Spike retorted casually.

“Sarcasm taken,” Wes retorted wryly. “Now, will you take her in?”

“So that you can live in up in your dead girl’s apartment by your lonesome?” A scarred eyebrow quirked.

“Precisely. And do not presume to judge. From what I’ve gathered, you reacted quite similarly when Buffy—”

“Got your point,” Spike cut him off with a scowl. “Wasn’t judging. Just pointing out that—”

“I should move on?” Wes retorted with a bark of laughter that bordered on deranged.

A moment of perfect understanding passed between them. “Guess not,” Spike agreed with a weary sigh. “Fine. You’ve successfully bummed off the still-life in blue. At least she doesn’t seem like a troublesome roommate.”

Wesley couldn’t help but snicker at that.

“Quiet, I mean,” Spike amended with a roll of his eyes.

“Actually, she does have the unfortunate tendency to emit a high-pitched ululating sound at random intervals. Often while I’m attempting to sleep.”

Spike laughed at that one.

“You won’t find it so funny when she awakens you,” the ex-Watcher insisted sullenly.

“Our bluebell’s playing games with you, mate,” Spike just insisted with a shake of his head.

“I hardly think any of us should presume to—” Wesley began, mildly irritated.

“With her wicked sense of humor?” Spike cut him off, an amused grin on his lips. “Trust me. She’s messin’ with your head.”

“Her motives are incomprehensible,” Wes insisted. “You can have no better insight into them than I do.”

The vampire turned his eyes heavenwards for guidance. “Please don’t tell me you buy that ‘goddess’ crap.”

“Of course not,” Wesley retorted defensively. “I merely believe that her reasons are beyond us.”

Spike snorted. “‘Reasons are beyond us’?” he repeated incredulously. “That your new fancy way of sayin’ ‘goddess worship’?”

“She was once treated as a goddess,” he defended himself.

“Doesn’t make her one. Doesn’t make her any more than a particularly powerful demon, actually. And demons, while motivated by very different things ’n humans, are quite comprehensible,” Spike concluded smugly.

Wes sighed. “Fine. I didn’t call you here to get into an argument.”

“Then why’d you call _me_?” the vampire smirked.

Wesley gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I quite think the two of you deserve each other,” he retorted smugly, opening the door to the lab.

“Oi!” Spike protested. “I know that was an insult!”

“How insightful of you,” Wes couldn’t help but grin. The lighter mood faded when he turned to Illyria once more, however. “From now on,” he informed her coldly, “you will be staying with Spike.”

Her head quirked at that, startling movement after having remained perfectly still for so long. “Why?” she demanded.

“Spike will explain to you,” Wesley insisted before turning to leave. He paused at the door. “You will…?” he addressed Spike hesitantly.

“Leaving Her Blueness in good hands,” Spike promised. “But you’re still leavin’…” A critical look.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Wesley agreed, and then he was gone.

Spike watched him go with a sigh and a shake of his head.

“My dark knight has left me, then?” Illyria inquired, her tone blank and disinterested as ever.

“In retrospect, dancin’ around in his dead girl’s body probably wasn’t the brightest of moves,” Spike answered, turning back to his new ward.

“I figured he would be pleased to see this ‘Fred’. It seems I figured wrong.”

“Got him to run for it,” Spike countered. “That wasn’t part of the plan all along?”

Illyria frowned at that, considering. “His…lack of fear was unnerving,” she conceded.

“Finally figured out how to strike below the belt, then,” Spike informed her, placing a cautious hand on her arm to guide her to her new home. He probably _would_ have to put her next to the couch, he realized, given how little room he had in that apartment. “The power taste as sweet as you remembered it?”

She allowed herself to be led away, but only because she desired to leave. She was still Illyria, and no one could compel her against her wishes. “It was…unexpected,” she finally concluded. “I cannot help but wonder whether the effect would work on you, as well.”

Spike’s jaw clenched at that. “You try it, and you’ll find my fist right in the lovely false face of yours,” he informed her coldly.

“You would strike this shell’s predecessor?” she asked, confused.

“Not in a million years,” he retorted matter-of-factly, “but you’re not her, no matter how much you look like her. Your li’l pretend games won’t work on me, luv.”

“You are the greatest danger I face. I should have killed you when I had the chance,” she decided.

“Probably.”

“I could still do so while you sleep.”

He laughed at that. “Oh, ‘ve heard that threat more times ’n I can count,” he said, unconcerned.

“You do not believe I will destroy you?” she demanded petulantly.

“I believe,” he retorted, coming to a halt right outside the elevator doors, “that ‘m all you’ve got left, luv. And if you don’t wanna find yourself suddenly very alone, you’ll be mindful of that.” He hit the down button with an angry flourish.

“What do I care whether I am alone?” she insisted, sounding oddly like a sullen child then.

“Because you’re suddenly trapped in an alien environment, followin’ non-sensical rules, and not sure what the bloody hell to do with your life,” he countered. “And, as unbearable as all that is, ‘s still not half as bad as it is in those moments when you’re alone and everything you’ve lost just hits you. Take some advice from a kindred spirit, blue. Accept the peace overtures the first time around ‘cause they might not ever be offered again.”

“I shall…consider it,” she conceded.

“Already lost your ‘dark knight’,” he pointed out.

“I have lost my knights before,” she remembered. “That way leads to destruction, millennia of imprisonment…”

“Locked you up in your sarcophagus, did they?”

“Indeed.”

“’d highly recommend learning from past mistakes.” The doors opened and he stepped out.

“I still have my white-haired knight,” she informed him with a pleased little smile. “This, I shall not lose.” One hand pressed over his solar plexus for an instant in a possessive gesture. “This, I will win.”

He gulped. “A knight, am I? Already found myself a queen.”

She smirked. “I have seen. But that queen is far, where I am near. And already you find me…intriguing.” She stepped confidently past him and out into the night.

“Little minx,” he grumbled under his breath as he followed after. “Don’t bow down to anyone.” _But, oh, what a fun game it could be…_

Ah well. What could he do? He’d always had a thing for bossy chits who weren’t shy about putting their foot in his face.

“Not so alone, after all,” Illyria informed him as they headed home together.


End file.
